Have I Told You I Love You?
by ExLibris3
Summary: Sequel to Anyone Ever Tell you? Gibbs makes up his mind. Jibbs. Oneshot.


_A/N: This is a sequel to Anyone Ever Tell You? You should probably read that before you read this one. This takes place directly after Hollis left his basement. Gibbs POV. Jibbs all the way, baby! :) Some sexual content._

**Have I Told You I Love You?**

I stood at the workbench for a long time after Hollis left. I know it's no point in following her. She saw the photos. Realized I still watch them at times. Knew we had been more than partners back in the day. She's been watching my face, it must have shown something, something I wasn't even aware of myself. That I still had feelings for Jenny.

Though I've loved after Jenny, it was never quite the same. Never the same passion. Never the same burning sensation when she'd run her hands over my back. Never the same satisfaction that I felt after making love to Jenny.

Jenny. Jen.

Most people call her Jenny. That's her preferred nickname. I never understood why she refuses to listen to Jennifer. She never wanted to explain that. I am different. I go with Jen. But Jen is my partner, my friend. I call her Jenny when I'm being more personal with her. Like when we made love. It was Jenny I called out when she pulled me over the edge. I don't know how it got that way.

"_That's too bad. I've missed you, Jen."_

I think back to what I said on her first day as Director. I meant it. I still do. She got to me like no other woman has after Shannon. It was worth a shot. Not that I thought she'd changed much, which evidently she hadn't. Her career. All her hard work. She didn't want to risk compromising all she'd accomplished. Probably at the expense of her heart. And mine.

I know her. Know that underneath the tough exterior lies a fragile heart. I know her body like nobody else. Know every curve, every pore. Know where to find her soft spots. Know what she doesn't like. What she likes. How to rub her back when she's tense to get her to feel relaxed. Know how she thinks. And how she reacts.

But, we were also complicated. It's never just as easy as to just know her. I must understand her. Understand her actions, and why she's done what she's done. I don't always. We have our differences. We're both equally stubborn. Neither likes to step down from a challenge.

But, I think it's when we're angry with the other that builds up the sexual tension between us. I can't quite explain it. It's just something in the way she fires up when she's angry that gets to me. Turns me on. She's a redhead. With the temper of one. I love the expression she gets when she's angry with me. Always make me wanna kiss her. And I do. Did. I kissed her back then. In Europe. I was equally angry. I crashed my lips down onto hers. Felt her trying to pull away at first, then she succumbed to me. We fell onto the nearest bed, couch, table or simply against a wall. Once on the floor. Those times it was always fast and furious. Angry love making. I still don't know which I love the most. The angry when we don't care about anything. Where we are. That our clothes get ruined when we simple tear them off trying to reach the other's skin. I just wanted to be inside her and she was willing to take me. That was how we used to solve our fights. And it worked.

I also love it when we take it slow. Doing it out of affection, not to release anger. It often started with innocent kissing. Sometimes I carry her to bed. Lay her down. Admire her beauty before I slowly strip her off her clothes. One piece at the time. Taking my time to kiss her skin thoroughly. Hearing her moan underneath me. Wriggle as I pinned her to the mattress. Slow love making. Tenderly.

It was not the same with Hollis. Not near the same. Surely I liked the woman. There was energy and attraction. But I never was sure of how long that would last. She'd discovered my feelings for Jenny even before I had. She'd left me so I could be happy. I still recall her voice, her last words before she'd left my house for the last time.

"_Go to her, Jethro. Make her happy."_

She knows too. Knows about Jenny's feelings. It is hard not to see them reflect in her eyes. Or to see the jealously when she observed me with Hollis. I still wonder what had been said between the women up in her office a while ago. Neither of them had spoken of it. I know it was about me. At least a part of it must have been. I wouldn't be surprised if Jenny had made a subtle hinting she knows me better. That I was hers long before Hollis time.

It was her. Not me. It was she that left me. Why? I'm still unsure. Watching her climb to the top the way she had sometimes make me think she gave up on us because of what she wanted to become. She had always aimed at the stars. Wanting to prove herself, especially as a woman. I don't deny I have considered she had other motives for leaving me. To keep her secrets. To protect me. She's a lot like me that way. I guess I'll never really know.

It is just another scar to my heart.

I reach for the bottle of bourbon standing next to me. It burns my throat in a way I'm all too familiar with to care about. I take several mouthfuls. Remembering the time I coaxed her into trying it for the first time. She wasn't too fond of it. Said she didn't like to drink it, but preferred tasting it off my lips when I kissed her. I guess she gradually got accustomed to the taste. She learnt it is an acquired taste.

I put the bottle down next to the pile of photographs. I pick up the one on top. Jenny in Paris. I softly caress her picture with my finger. Quickly pull away. I feel torn. I'm not sure what I should be doing. What I should feel. We had a beginning. We had a time where our love reached its peak. We never had a real ending.

I've spent the last eight years in confusion. What happened to us? How did we end? Why did she choose to leave me when she loved me like I thought she did? Or, are those just the questions I never will get a truthful answer to? Will she ever tell me? We were never much for talking, especially not feelings. We showed. We laughed together. We joked. She reached my soul. I hoped I reached hers too.

Do I want her back? Simple answer: yes I do. I really do. The rest isn't that simple. It's never wise to have a too intimate relationship with your superior. I've learnt. But there are other things at play here. Our happiness. Our history.

Sometimes I feel, the harder I try to be happy, the further away this happiness that I'm seeking slips away. It runs through my fingers like sand. It's hard to grasp it, to hold it balanced. To not loosen my grip and let it all fall into the dust. One mistake, and all is lost.

I wonder what it is we seek. Me and her. What is it we want? Company through dark nights? A lover? A stable relationship? I don't know what I'm able to give. What she's ready to give. I do know I am what I am, and I don't change easily. But I learned eight years ago she loved me for what I am. I think she still does.

In a time shorter than a heart beat I make up my mind. I'm already seated in my car before I start to think. I close my eyes. My fingers grip around the steering wheel. I don't want to have these memories. I don't want to slip into dreams where I see her undress before me, but I'm unable to touch her. I don't want to remember that what we had got to waste. I don't want to realize what we could have been. What we could have done.

I put the key in the engine and turn it. I pull out of my drive way and start my journey to wherever the hell I'm going. I haven't decided yet.

It takes an hour. I drive senselessly around the streets of Washington DC. Little after ten in the evening I inevitably end up on her street. Pull up on the opposite side of the street to her house.

I lean forward, look up the building until I find the bedroom window in the second floor. The light is still on, filtering through the sheer curtains.

I slip out of my car. Bring out my cell phone. Remembering the last time I was here. I smirk. Her number had still been clear in my head. Still is. I dial without looking at the keys I'm pressing.

Two rings, then I hear her raspy voice on the other end.

"Shepard," she answers. She sounds tired, maybe wondering what jackass is calling her at this hour. That would be me.

"Hello?" she inquires.

"Jenny," I snap out of my thoughts when I hear her voice again.

"Jethro," she sighs. "Something wrong?"

"Depends on your definition of wrong, Jen,"

"Just tell me what it is you want, Jethro," she's getting frustrated; I can hear it in her voice. I smile to myself as I walk up to her front door. I love to listen to the edge in her voice when I'm pissing her off.

"You," I say, finding the spare key under the flower pot on her porch.

Silence.

"Jethro," she speaks softly.

I'm through the door, still clutching the phone to my ear, not wanting to miss a second of listening to her calm breathing.

"I'm serious,"

I start to ascend the staircase.

"We deserve a second chance," I add quietly.

"Jethro, I don't know…"

I lean my back against the wall in the hallway outside her bedroom. My eyes are closed and for a second I think this probably wasn't my smartest move. Why the hell did I have to go here?

"I do," I whisper. I wonder if she heard me. Maybe it would be better if she hadn't.

She's silent for a while, then, "Hollis," she says.

I cover my eyes with my hand. Rub my brows.

She continues.

"I'm not dumb, Jethro. I'm not blind or deaf either. I know you have a relationship with her," Like I suspected all along. In her voice there is hurt. It hurts her to see me with Hollis. Not more than it hurt me watching her walk away from me. I guess we are even.

"Had," I say, my voice strangely gravelly. "Had a relationship. She left me,"

"So now you come crawling to me?" scorn in her voice. She snorts. "Nice Jethro, real nice. You get dumped and what? Hoping I'll take you back just like that? After watching you with Hollis, which you knew was hurting me, and now making me feel I come second after her?" she swallows, and I'm suddenly hit with the realization she's close to tears.

"It's not like that," I say, just as quiet as before.

"Than what's it like, Jethro?" she inquires.

"She left because of you. She caught me with old photographs of us back in Europe. You remember the one with the writing? The hearts we drew that hooked into each other?" I wait for a reply.

She is quiet.

I wait.

"I thought that photo was lost," she whispers.

"It's not,"

"Jethro…" she hesitates. I don't know what she was about to say. But what ever it was, she regrets it and remains silent.

"Jethro," she tries again, minutes later. "You're making this difficult,"

I wonder if that's what she'd originally intended to say.

"It doesn't have to be, Jen," I say. "I don't want to think we're done. It's your call, Madame,"

"Maybe I should send out that memo again. Some people seem to have forgotten what it said," she replies, her tone lighter.

I smirk.

"You gonna keelhaul me, Madame?" I tease.

Silence again.

"I've missed you," she says so quiet I can barely distinguish the words. But I got it.

"Where are you?" Just as quiet. Just as soft.

"Here," I say, opening the door to her bedroom. She looks up at me. I take in her appearance. The short red hair is still slightly damp from a shower. She wears no make-up. Her eyes are sad, glistening in the dimly lit room. She is wearing a short silky night gown, barely covering her thighs. She sits on her bed, legs stretched out before her. A book lies open on her bedside table.

We both turn off our phones. I walk up to her and sit heavily on the edge of her bed.

"What do you say?" I inquire after a long silence. I feel a small hand slip into mine.

"I'm sorry,"

I look up into her eyes. She is sorry. I can see it on her face.

"That I left you the way I did. I never thought…" her voice breaks. She takes a moment to gather her breath. I wait. "I never thought I'd see you again," she whispers.

"Me neither," I offer. She lifts her head that had been focused on our hands.

"Jethro," she says, her voice stronger now. I know she's going to try and reason with me. "What if this is wrong? What if we fail, again?" I hear the worry and hesitation in her voice. I know she wants this as much as I do, but she's afraid we'll face the same ending like before.

"Is that what you think is gonna happen?" My eyes dig deep into hers.

She shakes her head.

I decide to do what I have been longing to do all night. What I have wanted to do for eight years.

I lean closer to her. Close my eyes as I'm inches from her face. I feel her lips on mine. The touch sends ripples of heat through my body, making my blood feel like liquid fire in my veins. The feeling of her mouth on mine inebriates my brain and I feel myself rouse. I slip my hand around her neck, drawing her closer. She puts her hands on my shoulders. I feel her hesitation. I feel my heart sink. Is she rejecting me, again?

"Jenny," I breathe against her lips, having pulled away slightly. Her eyes are closed, lips slightly parted. She presses them together and licks them. I know she's about to make her choice.

Her hands skim up my neck to my hair. She opens her eyes. Looks at me. I can see in them she wants me. I also see she's hesitating. I pull back. Remove my hand from her neck. I make an attempt at getting off the bed. A hand closes around my wrist. I look back at her. She tugs me closer. Pulls me in for another kiss. I slip further up in her bed. Takes her in my arms and hugs her. I feel her face nuzzle into my neck.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Jenny," I say. She lifts her head from my shoulder and looks into my face. I wipe a stray tear off her cheek. "We deserve a second chance," I add, relieved to see her nod her head. Agreeing that we do.

Her small hands slip into my jacket; I take my arms off her to help her remove it. I kiss her. Tenderly at first. Then the intensity increases as she pulls me more fully on top of her.

My lips leave hers as I begin to leave a trail of kisses down her throat. Along her collarbone. Down her chest. I feel her chest heave under me as she draws deep breaths. Her hands rush over my back.

The silk rustles when I kiss across her breasts.

My hands slip down to her hips. I bundle up the silk in my hands. She lifts herself slightly off the bed as I pull the nightgown over her head, leaving her body exposed under me. I drink in the sight with my eyes. The perfect curves. The fair skin. I trail a finger from her breast and down to her hip, where I rest my hand.

"God, Jenny, you're beautiful," I mumble. She smiles at me. Grabs my collar and pulls me down on top of her. She kisses me senselessly. My hands work their way down her sides, not missing an inch of perfect, supple skin. She squirms underneath me. Works those little hands in under my shirt, she lifts it over my head. I press my naked chest against hers. God, it feels good to feel her again. My mouth finds hers again. My tongue through her lips. I lose myself in her taste. I'm only vaguely aware of her fingers struggling to unbuckle my belt. She pushes my pants down my hips and then use her feet to push them further down my legs. I finally kick them off and I have no idea where they land. And I don't care.

I have my hand on her hip, her leg is slightly bent. I feel her thigh against my hip. Her hands roam my back. Grips at my hips. Tries to pull me down onto hers.

I give her another searing kiss before I let her roll us over. She straddles my hips. Her hands on my chest. Nails scraping downwards. I look up at her face. The damp red hair is messy, some of it clinging to her sweaty forehead. Her face is flushed. The green eyes sparkle mischievously. Lips are swollen. She's damn gorgeous.

She meets my eyes. She smiles. I know I'm smiling too. Wonder how it took us so long to get back in this position. I know this is where I want to be. I see in her eyes this is where she wants to be.

I place my hands on her hips and pull her down to meet my hips. Hard. She arches her back. A loud moan escaping her throat. My fingers dig into her thighs as she moves with me.

I flip us over again. Her legs wrap around my waist and I thrust madly into her. All the lust and desire having been built up inside my body for so many years. Finally I get to have her again. All of her.

She pulls me down and claims my lips again. She runs her fingers through my hair. I move my head to her neck. I kiss and suck her delicate skin. I hear her moan and feel her nails dig into my shoulders. Her breath hitches. I thrust down harder and she pulls me over the edge with her.

I groan into her neck. Whisper her name. She says mine.

I pull out of her. Roll us over and pull her on top of me. She rests her head on my chest. I gently play with her hair. I stroke it away to get a look at her face. She is smiling. She looks up at me. My arms are wrapped tightly around her warm body. I love having her this close. Love feeling her breathe next to me.

"Hey," I say and she raises her head from my chest and meets my gaze.

"Have I told you I love you?" I grin.

She looks a little surprised at first. But the shock quickly changes into a wide smile.

"You haven't,"

I brush my lips against hers.

"I love you Jenny,"

She captures my lips.

"I love you," she breathes as I kiss her neck.

She pulls herself up on her arms, hands on either side of my head. I raise one eyebrow and look up at her. She tilts her head to the side and bites her lower lip. She looks like she's contemplating what she should do with me. I love that look on her face. And knowing her, she's most likely up to something.

"What?" I ask warily.

She purses her lips into a smile.

"What do you mean?" she asks innocent. I don't buy it.

"What are you up to?" I inquire, unable to keep the grin off my face any longer.

She smiles mischievously.

"What makes you think I'm up to anything?" the innocent tone again. Still not buying it.

"Oh I don't know," I say. "Maybe because I know you?"

As she looks down at me, her expression softens.

"What took us so long?" she asks softly.

I caress her sides as I contemplate my answer.

"I ask myself the same thing, Jen," I say.

She looks down at me. The mischievous glimmer in her eyes is back. And so is the smile on her lips.

"You want something,"

"Yeah I do. You," she says. And laughs.

I had known all along we wouldn't do it just once.

I slip my hand around to the small of her back.

"You can never pace yourself, Jenny," I mumble against her throat. Though I'm not complaining.

She laughs. I laugh.

I roll us over. She gazes lovingly up at me. I let her laugh fill me up on the inside. It warms me.

I lean down and give her what she wants. What we both want.

**The End**


End file.
